Millionaire Offered Me a Million Dollars to Spend the Night With My Wife – Story of the Day

Tom and Linda, on holiday, were savoring the ocean view at a luxurious restaurant when a wealthy stranger approached, seeking their company for the evening. Unbeknownst to Tom, Linda recognized him as her first love. What she didn't anticipate was the lengths he would go to drive a wedge between her and Tom.

On a warm summer evening, Linda and Tom found themselves at a table in an upscale Miami hotel restaurant. The setting sun cast a golden hue over the ocean, creating a picturesque view from their table.

As they admired the view, a waiter approached, bringing a gentle light to their table as he lit the candles. His smile was polite and welcoming. "What can I get for you tonight?" he asked, his tone professional yet friendly.

Tom, looking relaxed, replied, "We'll have a beer and a glass of wine, please. Just the regular ones.”

The waiter, slightly surprised by the modest order in such a grand setting, raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you'd like to order?"

"Yes, that's enough. Thank you," Tom said with a content smile, showing no interest in the more extravagant offerings.

The waiter gave a slight nod, still a bit puzzled by their simple request, and walked away to fulfill the order.

Linda chuckled, turning to Tom. "I'm glad we ate pizza earlier. Imagine what a full meal would cost here!" Her laughter was light, filled with the joy of their simple yet satisfying dinner.

Tom joined in, his laughter mixing with hers. "Absolutely. This place is quite something, but nothing tops our dinner on the beach."

Linda's eyes sparkled as she nodded in agreement. "There's just something special about pizza by the ocean, isn't there?"

Looking around at the luxurious surroundings, Tom leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "This place is fancy, not what we're used to."

Linda smiled, her gaze still on the ocean. "It's like a different world here. But I've always preferred our simple style."

Tom's smile broadened as he looked at Linda, the ocean reflecting in his eyes. "Exactly. In the end, it's the company that makes the moment, not the place."

They sat there, enjoying the ocean view and each other's company, a perfect moment in an otherwise extravagant setting. Their connection, simple yet profound, made the evening special, far beyond the opulence of the hotel restaurant.

The ocean breeze floated in, mixing with the sounds of laughter and clinking dishes. For a moment, they forgot about the world around them, lost in their own perfect evening.

Linda and Tom lived a simple life in Washington State. Linda worked as a florist at a small wedding agency. She loved arranging flowers, making each bouquet with care. Tom worked as a clerk in a logistics company. His job was routine, but he always had a smile for his coworkers.

Their life was humble, with little room for luxuries. Dreaming of a vacation in Miami was just that, a dream. They often imagined walking on sandy beaches and dining at fancy restaurants. However, their modest income made such thoughts seem like distant fantasies.

One ordinary evening, after a long day of work, they sat together checking their lottery tickets. They never expected much, but playing the lottery was their little thrill. But that evening, something unbelievable happened. As they matched the numbers, their eyes widened in shock. They had won the main prize! Air tickets to Miami and a stay at one of the city's most luxurious hotels.

Their excitement was uncontrollable. "Can you believe it, Tom? Miami!" Linda exclaimed, jumping up from her seat.

Tom was in disbelief. "It's like our dream just walked into reality!"

They hugged, laughing and imagining the adventure ahead. No more just dreaming about the ocean breeze and lavish hotels. They were going to experience it all, a once-in-a-lifetime escape from their daily routine. This unexpected twist in their lives felt like a fairy tale, a magical turn of events that would lead them to the sunny shores of Miami.

As the waiter took their order, Linda and Tom sat back, enjoying a playful observation game. They watched the wealthy guests in the restaurant.

"Check him out," Linda whispered, nodding towards an older man devouring a massive burger. The burger had a thick, juicy veal patty.

Tom chuckled. "Imagine eating like that every day. I'd need new clothes!"

They both laughed, catching the eyes of some nearby diners. A man reading a book at a nearby table glanced over. He looked serious and well-dressed. His suit was sharp, his shirt white as snow. His black leather shoes gleamed like the crystal on his table. A gold watch sparkled on his wrist, matched by a similar bracelet.

This man seemed different from the others. He looked at Linda and Tom with a curious, almost familiar gaze. He put his book down, his eyes still on them. Then, he stood up and began walking towards their table.

Tom noticed him approaching. "Looks like we've got company," he said to Linda.

"Good evening!" greeted the man. "I couldn't help but notice you two having fun. May I join you? I'm here alone," he said. "Oh, and I'm Peter."

Linda's smile vanished as soon as she heard his name and saw his face closer. Her face turned serious.

Tom, unaware, smiled warmly. "Sure, why not? I'm Tom, and this is my wife, Linda. Please, sit with us." He then excused himself to find the waiter.

Once Tom moved away from the table, Linda faced the man sitting across from her. His unexpected presence was unsettling. "I never thought I'd see you again," she said in a low voice, her emotions a mix of surprise and apprehension.

The man, Peter, gave a half-smile. "Life is full of surprises," he responded casually, his eyes scanning the luxurious surroundings. "Didn't expect to see you here either. Nice place, isn't it?"

Linda's expression hardened, her voice carrying a firm edge. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to be together. Please leave."

Peter's smirk grew wider, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Leaving, like you left me almost 20 years ago?" he taunted, his words sharp and accusing.

Linda felt a surge of frustration. "That's not true. You don't understand," she retorted, her patience wearing thin.

He leaned forward, his tone insinuating. "Or maybe you sold our love for money."

Linda's response was immediate and resolute. "Love isn't something you buy or sell. You're wrong."

Peter's laugh was light but filled with irony. "We'll see who's right. I'll prove it to you," he said, his confidence unshaken.

Their exchange was interrupted as Tom returned to the table. Sensing the tension, Tom looked from Linda to Peter, confusion evident on his face.

Linda, eager to end the uncomfortable encounter, quickly said, "We are very sorry that you have to go so early."

Tom, still trying to understand the situation, asked, "Leaving so soon?"

Peter stood up, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "Yes, I must get back to my room," he said, his tone indicating the end of the conversation.

As Peter walked away, Linda let out a sigh of relief, though her mind was still reeling from the unexpected encounter. Tom sat down, looking at Linda with concern, sensing that something significant had just transpired.

Linda watched him leave, a mix of relief and unease in her eyes. After the man left, Linda's mood changed. She wasn't smiling anymore and Tom noticed that. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and the air was now thick with unspoken words and tension.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

Linda forced a smile. "I just don't feel well. Maybe I should rest."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tom offered.

Linda shook her head. "No, stay and enjoy your beer. I'll just sleep."

Tom was hesitant. "Are you sure? I don't mind going back with you."

Linda insisted. "I'll be fine. You should relax a bit. I'll just go to our room and sleep. Don't worry about me."

Tom nodded slowly. "Alright, if you're sure. I'll come back soon."

Linda stood up, giving Tom a weak smile. "I'll see you later," she said and left the restaurant.

***

Linda lay in bed, wide awake. Her mind raced back to a memory from when she was just 19, the last time she saw Peter.

The bus station was bustling. People hurried with their suitcases. Some were greeting loved ones with smiles and hugs. Amidst this chaos, young Linda and Peter stood close, wrapped in a final embrace. It was a moment filled with emotion, as Peter was about to leave for the military.

Peter looked into Linda's eyes. "I'll come back to you. I promise," he said, holding her tightly.

Linda's eyes were filled with tears. "You can't make that promise. This is war," she said, her voice trembling.

Peter gently wiped her tears away. "My love for you is strong. It will keep me safe. Please, wait for me," he pleaded.

Linda nodded, trying to be brave. "I will wait for you. For as long as it takes," she promised.

They shared one last, lingering kiss. Then Peter turned and boarded the bus. Linda watched, her heart heavy. She whispered to herself, "I'll wait for you, Peter." She wasn't just promising Peter; she was promising herself.

As the bus pulled away, Linda stood there, alone. She felt a mix of fear, hope, and love.

Two months had gone by since Peter left. Linda spent her days working in a flower shop. It was an ordinary day, but something special happened. In the morning, Linda received a letter from Peter. She was overjoyed.

Sitting at her desk, Linda read the letter again and again. She focused on one line in particular: "Every day I'm away, I think of you. You're like the brightest flower in my heart." She traced the words with her finger, smiling softly.

The flower shop was calm and filled with the scent of fresh blooms. Linda was surrounded by colorful petals and green leaves. It was a place that usually brought her peace. But today, she felt a mix of happiness and longing as she read Peter's words.

Just then, the door chimed. A young man, about 23-25 years old, stepped in. He was tall and had a kind smile. This was Tom, who would later become Linda's husband, though she didn't know it yet.

"Good afternoon, do you have ready-made bouquets of roses?" Tom asked as he entered the flower shop.

Linda, deep in thought reading Peter's letter, didn't hear him at first. "Sorry, could you show me your large bouquets of roses?" Tom asked again, a bit louder.

Linda looked up, slightly startled. "Oh, I apologize. Yes, we have them. Come this way," she said, leading him to the roses.

She showed him several bouquets. Tom picked out the biggest one. "This one's perfect," he said.

Linda looked at the price tag. "This is our most expensive, $200," she informed him.

Tom nodded. "It's for my mom's birthday. She's worth every penny," he said with a smile.

"Do you like it?" he asked Linda, holding the bouquet up.

"It's beautiful. Hard not to like," Linda responded, admiring the roses.

Tom glanced at the other bouquets. "Do you have another one like this?" he inquired.

"Just one more," Linda said, pointing to the last one.

"I'll take both, then," Tom decided, smiling.

Linda wrapped the bouquets, impressed by Tom's generosity. "Your mom is lucky to have you," she said as she handed him the flowers.

Linda placed the two large bouquets of roses on the counter. Tom handed her $400, a warm smile on his face. "Thank you! I'm Tom, by the way."

Linda replied softly, "I'm Linda." As Tom turned to leave, she noticed one bouquet still on the counter. "Wait!" she called out. "You forgot the second one."

Tom turned back, his smile widening. "No, that one's for you," he said, then left the shop with a cheerful "See you soon!"

The moment Tom left, Linda's mood shifted. Holding the bouquet, she felt a wave of guilt. To her, accepting the bouquet felt like a betrayal to Peter. With a heavy heart, she threw the beautiful roses in the trash, fighting back tears. It was too much. She was still waiting for Peter, and such gestures didn't seem right.

Despite her clear disinterest, Tom visited the flower shop often after that day. He was always trying to make Linda smile. One day, he brought her a small potted plant, a bright and cheerful daisy. "For the lady who makes flowers happy," he said. Linda thanked him but placed the daisy on a shelf away from her desk.

Another time, Tom came in during a rainstorm. He noticed Linda didn't have an umbrella. The next day, he brought her a small, blue umbrella. "So you don't get caught in the rain again," he explained. Linda accepted it with a polite nod but never used it, keeping it stored under her desk.

Tom even tried to brighten her day with jokes and funny stories. He would come in with a wide grin, sharing amusing tales from his day. Linda would listen, offering a small smile, but never engaging more than necessary.

Despite Tom's efforts, Linda remained distant. She was polite but always kept their interactions brief. She couldn't allow herself to be drawn to Tom, her loyalty to Peter too strong. Each of Tom's visits left her with mixed feelings. She admired his kindness, but her heart was still waiting for someone else.

As the days passed, Tom's visits became a regular part of her life at the flower shop. Each time he left, Linda would feel a strange emptiness, a tug at her heart she couldn't quite understand. But she always pushed those feelings away, reminding herself of Peter and the promise she had made.

A whole year had gone by, and Linda was still at the flower shop, arranging bouquets and tending to the plants. But for the past few weeks, her usual bright smile was missing. She hadn’t heard from Peter in almost a month. Each day without a letter from him weighed heavily on her heart.

The shop was quiet that morning, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of leaves. Linda was lost in her thoughts, her hands automatically arranging a bouquet of daisies and carnations. Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened with a jingle. It was the postman.

“Miss Collins, I have a letter for you,” he said, holding out an envelope.

Linda’s heart leapt. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to the postman, hoping it was from Peter. Her face lit up with a hopeful smile as she took the letter. But as she looked at the envelope, her smile vanished. It wasn’t Peter’s handwriting.

With trembling hands, Linda opened the envelope. She pulled out the letter and read the formal words: “Miss Collins, we invite you to the local military headquarters today at 4 o'clock in the afternoon.”

Linda’s heart raced. “Could Peter be coming home?” she wondered, a mix of hope and anxiety filling her. She looked at the clock. It was only 10 AM. The wait until 4 o'clock seemed endless.

She called over her friend Amanda, who also worked nearby. “Amanda, could you cover for me this afternoon? I need to go to the military headquarters. It’s about Peter.”

Amanda, seeing the worry in Linda’s eyes, agreed without hesitation. “Of course, Linda. Don’t worry about the shop. I’ll take care of everything.”

Linda spent the rest of the morning distracted, her mind racing with possibilities. Could Peter be returning? Or was it something else? She tried to stay positive, but the uncertainty gnawed at her.

As the clock neared 4 PM, Linda left the flower shop. She walked to the military headquarters, her heart pounding with each step. She tried to prepare herself for any news, but deep down, she clung to the hope of seeing Peter again. The walk felt longer than it actually was, each step heavy with anticipation and fear.

Linda approached the military headquarters with a heavy heart. The building was large and imposing, with a stern facade that matched the serious nature of its purpose. As she entered, she was struck by the atmosphere inside. It was a place of strict order and solemnity. Uniformed personnel moved briskly, their expressions focused and somber.

Around her, the air was thick with tension and grief. In one corner, a family huddled together, their sobs filling the silence as they received heart-wrenching news. Linda's heart ached for them, knowing they had just been told of a loved one lost in the war.

She clutched the letter in her hand, feeling its weight like a stone. Nervously, Linda approached a woman who appeared to work there. She showed her the letter, her voice barely a whisper. "I received this today," she said.

The woman, with a practiced, empathetic look, glanced at the letter and gestured towards a row of chairs. "Please wait here. Someone will come to speak with you," she said gently.

Linda sat down in the corridor, her mind racing. The wait was agonizing. She looked around at the stark walls, the stern faces, and the occasional passing of uniformed officers. The gravity of the place weighed on her. She felt out of place, a stranger in a world of military protocol and somber duties.

As she waited, Linda's thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and hope. "Could Peter be coming back? Or is it something worse?" She tried to stay calm, but her heart thumped wildly in her chest. The uncertainty was the hardest part, not knowing whether to brace for joy or sorrow.

Every footstep, every door opening made her jump, thinking it might be someone coming to speak to her. Minutes felt like hours as she waited, lost in her thoughts, preparing herself for any news that might come her way. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, and she occasionally glanced at the clock, each tick echoing loudly in her ears. The wait was unbearable, but she knew she had to face whatever news awaited her.

Twenty long minutes had passed when a man in a crisp military uniform approached Linda. His walk was firm, his expression somber. “Good afternoon, Miss Collins. I’m Colonel Harrison,” he introduced himself with a respectful nod.

Linda looked up, her heart racing. The colonel’s face showed he carried heavy news. He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “Miss Collins, I regret to inform you of some unfortunate news. The company where your fiancé, Peter, was serving, encountered severe enemy fire. They suffered significant losses. Peter is listed as missing, but I must tell you, we believe he may not have survived.”

The world around Linda seemed to freeze. Her heart sank. The words echoed in her ears, but she couldn’t accept them. She looked at the colonel, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Then, a piercing scream escaped her lips, raw and filled with pain.

The colonel reached out, trying to offer some comfort. “Miss Collins, please…” he began, but Linda was inconsolable. Her cries filled the hallway, a heartrending sound of grief and despair.

The colonel, feeling helpless, stood by her for a moment. “I am truly sorry,” he said, his voice low and filled with sorrow. He knew no words could ease her pain. Quietly, he left her to her grief.

Linda sat there, alone, her tears flowing freely. She couldn't believe Peter was gone. In her heart, she still hoped it was a mistake, that he would come back to her. But as the reality of the colonel’s words sank in, her hope turned to deep sorrow.

She remained in the hallway, crying, for what felt like an eternity. Time lost meaning as she mourned the loss of her beloved Peter. Eventually, she found the strength to leave the military headquarters, but she couldn’t bear to return to the flower shop. Instead, she went home, to the solitude of her room, where she spent the rest of the evening and the entire night crying, her heart broken by the devastating news.

Linda spent a restless night, tossing and turning, her mind swirling with grief and disbelief. As the first light of morning peeked through her curtains, she knew sleep was far from her grasp. Tears streamed down her face as she left the sanctuary of her room, seeking some solace in the quiet of the kitchen.

Her mother, Amanda, was already there, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. The moment Amanda saw Linda, her heart ached for her daughter. She could see the pain etched on Linda's face, the raw sorrow in her eyes.

Linda sat down next to her mother, her sobs filling the room. Amanda reached out, her hand gently touching Linda's back. "My child, you must survive this. Let him go. He wouldn't want you to cry now," she said softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Linda's grief turned to anger. "He is not dead! Do you hear me! Nobody knows yet! Don't you dare talk about him as if he's dead!" she shouted, her voice cracking.

Amanda sighed, her worry deepening. "Linda! You should think about your future! What if he never comes back? Are you going to be single all your life? Look how many good guys there are around! For example, the guy who brought you gifts! Tom! From a good, wealthy family. Look at him," she urged.

Linda felt a surge of frustration. "How dare you say that to me when I'm in this state?" she yelled, her voice echoing in the kitchen. "I don't want to see you!" she added, her words sharp with pain and anger.

Without another word, Linda stormed out of the kitchen, leaving her mother sitting there, a mix of sadness and helplessness on her face. Amanda knew her daughter was hurting, but she also feared for her future. She watched as Linda grabbed her coat and left for work, her heart heavy with worry for her daughter's well-being.

As Linda walked to the flower shop, her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She felt betrayed by her mother's words, yet deep down, she knew Amanda was only trying to help. But the wound was too fresh, the pain too raw. She couldn't think about moving on, not when her heart still held onto the hope that Peter might still be alive.

Linda was at the flower shop, surrounded by the scent of fresh blooms and the soft rustle of petals. But her mind was far away, engulfed in thoughts of Peter. Each flower reminded her of him, every petal a memory they shared. Her heart ached with longing and fear.

As she arranged a bouquet, the bell above the door jingled. She looked up, expecting a customer, but her heart sank when she saw Tom. Overwhelmed by grief and frustration, she couldn't hold back her emotions.

"Why did you come here again? Why do you always come here? Get out of here! I don't want to know you! I don't want to see you! Get out!" she shouted, her voice trembling.

Tom stood still, his face filled with concern. “I… I know about Peter,” he said softly. “I came to support you. I hope he’s alive. I truly do.”

Linda's anger faltered, replaced by a wave of guilt. Tom was only trying to help. She watched him turn to leave, then said, "Wait... Forgive me. I'm just... It's been hard."

Tom turned back, his expression kind. "Don't apologize. I understand. You don’t need to say sorry."

For the first time, Linda opened up to Tom. She spoke of Peter, how they met, the little things he did that made her love him. She remembered a day when Peter had surprised her with a picnic in the park. He had brought her favorite foods, and they had laughed and talked under the sun. It was a simple day, but it meant everything to her.

Tom listened, his eyes never leaving Linda's face. He didn't interrupt, just gave her the space to share her memories. In his quiet, understanding way, he was there for her, a steady presence in the storm of her emotions.

As she talked, Linda felt a small weight lift from her heart. It was still heavy with loss, but sharing her memories of Peter brought a sliver of peace. She realized then that Tom's intentions were genuine. He wasn't trying to replace Peter; he was just trying to be a friend.

When she finished talking, Tom simply nodded. "Thank you for telling me about him. He sounds like a great guy." His voice was gentle, respectful.

Linda gave a small, sad smile. "He is."

With those words, a new understanding formed between Linda and Tom. He wasn't there to push her into something new; he was there to support her through her grief. And for Linda, having someone to listen, to understand, was a small comfort in her world of pain.

The bell above the door chimed loudly as Linda's neighbor burst into the flower shop, her face flushed and eyes wide with urgency. "Linda!" she called out breathlessly. "You need to hurry to the hospital! Your mother… The doctors have taken her!"

Linda's heart skipped a beat. Her hands trembled as she reached for the phone to call a taxi. But Tom, who had stayed nearby, overheard the conversation and quickly stepped in. "No need for a taxi, let's use my car!" he shouted, a sense of urgency in his voice.

Without wasting a moment, Linda nodded, her mind racing with worry about her mother. They hurried out of the flower shop, Tom leading the way. They rushed to his car parked outside. Linda barely had time to process what was happening as they sped off towards the hospital, her thoughts consumed with concern for her mother. Tom drove quickly but safely, understanding the gravity of the situation and wanting to be there for Linda in her time of need.

Together, they navigated the busy corridors of the hospital, Tom keeping a close eye on Linda, ensuring she didn't get lost or overwhelmed in the bustling environment. He spoke to the receptionist, asking for directions to Linda's mother's room. His calm demeanor helped ease some of Linda's anxiety.

They found the room where Linda's mother was. A doctor stood by the bedside, his face serious. Linda, her heart pounding, approached him. "What happened to my mom?" she asked, her voice quivering with concern.

The doctor explained gently, "Your mother had a heart attack. She also hit her head quite hard when she fell. She has a head injury." His words were careful, trying to convey the seriousness without causing more alarm.

Tom stood by Linda, offering a hand for support. She gripped it tightly, trying to process the doctor's words. Tom could see the fear and worry in Linda's eyes. He asked the doctor, "What can be done for her now?"

The hospital room was silent except for the soft beeping of the machines. The doctor's words hung heavily in the air. “Miss Collins, your mother needs urgent surgery in the next few days. The operation will cost about 50 thousand dollars. Are you able to pay for it?”

Linda felt her heart sink. “My God... We've never had that kind of money,” she whispered, a sense of panic rising within her. She looked determined though, her voice gaining strength. “But I'll find a way. I have to.”

The doctor nodded understandingly. “You have a few days, Miss Collins. Your mother is in a coma now, but you can spend some time with her.”

Linda moved closer to her mother's bedside, taking her mother’s hand gently in hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched her mother lying there, so still and vulnerable. Tom stood quietly in the corner of the room, his presence a silent source of support.

As Linda wept, Tom's heart ached for her. He wanted to do something, anything, to ease her burden. He approached and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Linda, you need to rest. Let me take you home. Tomorrow is another day, and we'll work this out together.”

Linda looked up at Tom, her eyes red and swollen from crying. There was a sense of gratitude in her gaze, mixed with the overwhelming worry. She nodded slowly, realizing she needed to be strong, not just for herself, but for her mother too.

They left the hospital room, Linda taking one last look at her mother. Tom guided her gently through the hospital corridors. The weight of the situation was palpable, and Linda leaned on Tom more than she realized. He was her rock in this storm, ready to help her weather whatever came next. As they stepped out into the cool night air, Linda took a deep breath, bracing herself for the challenges ahead, but comforted by the fact that she wasn't facing them alone.

The car ride home was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by Linda's quiet sobs. She was lost in a sea of sorrow and worry, the weight of her mother's condition pressing down on her. Tom drove carefully, casting concerned glances at Linda, wishing he could ease her pain.

As they drove, Linda suddenly looked up, her tear-streaked face curious and tired. "Where did you get this car?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tom glanced at her and replied softly, "It was a gift from my father. He gave it to me for my graduation. It's been my dream car since I was young."

Linda's voice turned colder as she asked, "So you didn't buy it with your own money?"

Tom shook his head. "No, I don't earn that much yet. My father bought it."

Linda's response was icy. "Of course."

Sensing her mood, Tom asked with concern, "Is something wrong?"

Linda's frustration boiled over. "That is, you get such gifts while others are forced to give their lives in the war!" She accused him bitterly, "You're just a spoiled child!"

They arrived at Linda's house. Tom parked the car and turned to face her, trying to explain. "I understand it's difficult for you, Linda..."

But Linda cut him off, her voice filled with anguish. "You don't understand anything! You only know how to please your father and ask for expensive gifts!"

In that moment, Tom's expression changed. He opened his shirt, revealing a large scar on his chest. "I can't fight," he said quietly, sadness in his eyes. "I had a serious heart surgery as a child. Any strain or severe stress could be fatal for me."

Linda stared at the scar, realizing her mistake. Her anger faded, replaced by guilt. "Please forgive me," she said, her voice trembling. "You're right. I'm just struggling and taking it out on everyone. Thank you for everything today. You've helped me more than you know. Good night."

"Good night," Tom replied softly, his voice filled with understanding.

Linda stepped out of the car, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude. Tom had shown her nothing but kindness, and she regretted her harsh words. As she walked to her front door, she knew that Tom's support meant more than she could express. Despite her pain, she was grateful for his presence in her life.

For the next few days, Linda's world revolved around a single mission: to gather enough money for her mother's surgery. She was determined, driven by a mix of fear and hope. Each morning, she woke up with a list of relatives and friends to contact, her phone always in hand, her voice steadily growing more tired and strained as the day went on.

She visited her aunt first, explaining the situation with a quiver in her voice. Her aunt, sympathetic to Linda's plight, offered some savings. Then, she went to her childhood friend, who also contributed what she could. Each visit was a mix of awkward requests and heartfelt thanks, a cycle of hope and disappointment.

By the end of the second day, Linda had managed to collect only 8 thousand dollars. She sat at her small kitchen table, the collected bills and coins spread out in front of her. Counting the money for the umpteenth time, she realized it was far from enough. The daunting figure of 50 thousand dollars loomed over her like a mountain.

In those moments, Linda felt a deep sense of helplessness. She had reached out to everyone she knew, but the gap was still too wide. She leaned back in her chair, feeling the weight of exhaustion and desperation. Her eyes wandered to a photo of her mother on the fridge, a reminder of the person she was fighting so hard for.

Despite the overwhelming odds, Linda refused to give up. She knew she had to keep trying, to find a way, any way, to save her mother. The next day, she planned to visit more distant relatives and explore other possible sources of funds. Her determination was unwavering, but the challenge ahead seemed more daunting than ever.

On the third day, with a heart full of worry and desperation, Linda returned to the hospital. Her mind was occupied with thoughts of how to secure a loan for her mother's surgery. As she walked through the hospital's sterile corridors, her steps were heavy, each one echoing her deep concern.

Upon entering the doctor's office, Linda braced herself for a discussion about financial options. But the doctor's first words took her by surprise. "Good afternoon, Miss Collins! I congratulate you!" he exclaimed with a smile.

Confused and anxious, Linda asked, "What do you mean? What's happening?"

The doctor's smile widened. "The operation is paid for. We will hold it the day after tomorrow morning! Congratulations!"

Linda's eyes widened in shock. "Paid? How? I haven't found the money yet!" she stammered, her mind racing.

At that moment, Tom walked into the office. The doctor turned to him and said, "This young man here paid for your mother's surgery."

Linda was overwhelmed with disbelief and gratitude. She turned to Tom, tears brimming in her eyes, and hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Together, they visited her mother's room, where Linda sat by her bedside, holding her hand and talking softly to her, while Tom stood supportively by her side.

After some time, they prepared to leave. Walking towards the hospital parking lot, Linda suddenly remembered Tom's car. "I don't have a car today," Tom said quietly.

In that moment, it dawned on Linda what Tom had done. "You sold your car?" she asked, her voice soft and full of awe.

Tom nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "You needed the money more."

Linda felt a surge of emotions - admiration, gratitude, and a newfound respect for Tom. She stepped closer and hugged him again, this time with a warmth that spoke volumes. "You used to offer me a date, remember?" she said, a small smile playing on her lips despite the tears in her eyes.

Tom's response was immediate and sincere. "Yes, of course."

Linda's smile grew. "Can we hold it right now?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope and a newfound appreciation for the man who had shown her such kindness.

"With pleasure," Tom replied, his voice steady and warm.

As they walked away from the hospital, side by side, there was a sense of closeness that hadn't been there before. The day had brought unexpected turns, but it also opened a new chapter in their relationship, one filled with possibilities and a deeper connection.

Linda jolted awake, her heart pounding, as the vivid images of her dream faded away. The memories of her youth, so real and intense in her dream, lingered in her mind. She lay there for a moment, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream that felt more like a journey back in time.

"It was the most realistic dream of my life," she thought, still feeling the emotions it stirred. She turned to the other side of the bed, expecting to see Tom lying there, but the space was empty.

"Dear?" she called out softly, thinking he might have stepped out to the balcony or gone to the bathroom. But there was no response, only the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of the ocean.

Concern crept into Linda's heart as she got out of bed. She called out for Tom again, her voice echoing slightly in the large hotel room, but still, there was no answer. A sense of unease settled over her as she noticed that Tom's belongings were missing. His suitcase, usually by the door, was gone.

She scanned the room, her eyes searching for any clue to Tom's whereabouts. That's when she saw it—a note on the table. With trembling hands, Linda picked it up and read the words written in Tom's familiar handwriting: "Dear Linda! I am very sorry that this happened. Farewell!”

Shock coursed through her. Disbelief, confusion, and a sense of loss overwhelmed her. Why would Tom leave so suddenly? And why like this? The note offered no explanations, no reasons, just a goodbye that made her heart sink.

Determined to find answers, Linda quickly dressed and left the room. She hurried to the hotel reception, her mind racing with questions. At the desk, she approached the administrator, her voice urgent. "Have you seen a man with a suitcase leaving the hotel in the last few hours?"

Frustration and panic swelled in Linda as the hotel administrator apologetically explained, "I'm sorry, but someone leaves our hotel every 10 minutes with a suitcase in hand. I can't remember them all." His words offered no comfort, no answers to the turmoil churning inside her.

As Linda turned away from the reception, her eyes fell on a familiar figure in the hotel lobby. There, sitting comfortably with a book in hand, was Peter. The sight of him in such a serene state contrasted sharply with the storm of emotions Linda was experiencing.

"Can't find your husband?" Peter asked casually, looking up from his book. His tone was almost mocking as he added, "And she said that love cannot be sold."

Linda felt a surge of anger. She marched over to him, her voice sharp and filled with accusation. "What have you done!?" she demanded.

Peter closed his book with a calm, deliberate motion. "I simply offered him $1 million," he said coolly. "I asked if that would be enough so I spent the night with you and for him to disappear forever from your life. You can guess his answer since he's not here."

Linda's heart raced with shock and disbelief. "You've ruined my life!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and despair.

Peter's reply was cold and matter-of-fact. "I just bought his love. Just like he once bought yours,” he retorted. "Now you understand how I felt when I returned from the war, only to find out from your mother that you had married Tom."

Linda's frustration boiled over. "You know nothing!" she cried out. "You don't know about my mother's urgent surgery while you were away! You're unaware of how I spent nights waiting for your letters! And you certainly don't know that I was told you died in the war!" Her voice cracked as she recounted each painful memory, her eyes fixed on Peter's, hoping to make him understand the depth of her pain and the sacrifices she had made.

As she spoke, her words painted a vivid picture of the struggles and heartaches she endured during his absence. Each sentence was laden with the weight of her unspoken suffering, revealing the untold story of her life while Peter was away. Her revelation was a desperate plea for understanding, a hope that Peter would see the truth behind her actions and the depth of her love that never waned.

Peter listened quietly as Linda poured out her heart, her words painting a vivid picture of the struggles and emotional turmoil she had endured. As she finished, there was a moment of heavy silence. Peter, with a solemn expression, lowered his head and softly admitted, "Yes... You're right, I didn't know all these events."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. With a deep sigh, he dialed a number and waited as the call connected. "Bring him," he said tersely into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper.

Linda watched, confused and anxious, as Peter ended the call. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of fear and anticipation building inside her. What was Peter planning?

Ten minutes passed slowly, each second stretching out as they waited in silence. Then, Peter gestured for Linda to follow him to the back exit of the hotel. As they stepped outside, a black SUV pulled up. The vehicle had a cold, imposing presence, adding to the surreal nature of the moment.

The back door of the SUV opened, and Linda's heart skipped a beat. Tom was pushed out, his hands tied and a blindfold covering his eyes. He looked disoriented but unharmed.

Peter's voice broke the silence. "I actually offered him a million a few hours ago. But he refused." There was a hint of resignation in his tone. "Therefore, I have to admit that you were right. Money can't buy love," he said, his words carrying a mixture of realization and defeat.

With that, Peter turned and walked away, leaving Linda and Tom alone. Linda rushed to Tom, her hands trembling as she removed his blindfold and untied his hands. Tom blinked, adjusting to the light, and as their eyes met, there was a moment of profound relief and understanding. They were together again, their bond unbroken despite the ordeal.

In the wake of Peter's departure, Linda and Tom stood there, holding each other in a tight embrace. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, their love stronger than ever. They knew that no amount of money or manipulation could ever come between them, a testament to the power and resilience of true love.

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If you enjoyed this story, here's another one: Wealthy businessman Larry is watching a news report on a bomb threat in Paris when a beggar runs into the reporter. He instantly recognizes the beggar as his wife, Susan, who stole $500,000 from him and disappeared 12 years ago. He leaves for Paris immediately to find her and get answers. Read the full story here.

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